It's that time of year again...

Valerie's birthday!

I know, I know. You thought this was gonna be about Thanksgiving or some "holiday" crap. Then you're like, "who the hell is Valerie?"

That's my baby sister. She's now 18, and ready to buy porn, cigarettes and lotto tickets, and ride her bike sans helmet without having to dodge the 5-0. Anyone wanna guess as to which she's most excited about?

Things I enjoy about my sister:
*We're great at communicating (We've mastered the art of condensing 5 minutes of conversation into one look. I'm not even kidding)
*We're able to be happy for each other without jealousy (like if she farts and I can hear it in the other room, I'll go congratulate Valerie on her impressive acoustics, and vice versa)
*She has fantastic style ("Hey Valerie, can I borrow your green top? ...Okay good because I'm already wearing it...")
*We can learn new things from each other all the time

"WAIT! You don't know what a FUPA is?? Lemme tell youuuu"-Me

or the classic:
"DGAF"-Valerie
"WTF is DGAF?"-Me

Happy birthday to my favorite sister!

(Paris!)

(Modeling in a haute couture fashion show at Nordstrom)

(We found juggling balls!)

(Duck tour in D.C.)

Chupacabra Fight!

I haven't seen New Moon yet and probably won't for a while. Why would I when I have Guillermo to translate a funny version?!

Boombox

The locations, the dancing, the music, the dude... UH-MAZING.

Foto Friday

Back in the day, when I was a wee Brookie, I wanted boobs. No kidding, I always wanted to be "older" and the women that I viewed as older had boobs. I also wanted to change my name to Linda, but that's a different story.

Fun fact: juggling balls underneath my shirt gave me BOOBS!

I was a homing device for juggling balls. If they were at your house, I would find them. Then you would find them in my shirt.

Naturally, I was flat chested well into high school.

An ode to my bed

Do you guys read 1000 Awesome things? Their post today about coming back to your own bed after a long trip got me thinking about my amazing bed. First of all, it's used. Are you grossed out? Don't be. It wasn't in a frat house or used by a whore. According to the girl I bought it from who was trying to sell it for $500 (HA!), it is an $800 bed (it was implied that this was really expensive and therefore a REALLY good bed). Whatever, I got her down to $150 and I've never regretted it. In hindsight, I would gladly pay her $500.

My bed is the most comfortable bed I've slept on in years. Bar none. When I'm away, my mom comes into my room and crashes on it. The dog hops up when nobody's looking to take in the comfort (ok, I actually have to beg her to keep me company in my room). When I'm away, laying on a 3-inch thick mattress in a Paris hostel, or sleeping next to the boyf in Virginia, all I can think is DANG! Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could drag this thing along with me everywhere I go? Like magically, it could fold up blowup mattress style and when I'm ready to hit the hay, I just kinda shake it out real fast and it pops up to it's normal size and comfort level.

Because lemme tell you. I DO NOT sleep on anything but that. My eyes might close for a bit, but it's a guaranteed toss 'n' turn kinda night. It may or may not also have to do with being safely cacooned in home in my own room, but no other place can give me what the $150 hand-me-down bed has given me in the last 3 years. Praise be to the Mattress God, for he hath shined his mattressy light upon me.

I love it

I would like to announce that I. AM. SORE.

Yes, my dears, I went to the gym. And worked out. For the first time in a long time. I've gone a few times during the foot issue, but definitely not since my surgery. Das a lawwwwwng time for me. I am that annoying person who loves to work out. I live for the burn, to push myself to the edge, to be dripping buckets of sweat. For me, that is satisfaction.

In February, I was running 5 miles, 5 times a week. I had finally accomplished my running goal and I was ready to start training for a 1/2 or full marathon. I was also ignoring some pain in my foot. After a month or two of this pain, I was on a run (the 5 mile kind) and Spongebob reared his ugly head, forcing me to limp home for 2.5 miles. Not a happy memory. I ran a few times after that, but really haven't consistently run since then. I continued to work out in other ways, like riding the bike and taking group fitness classes. Walked all over Europe with slight twinges of pain, but mostly I was okay. Came back, had the surgery blah blah you know the story.

On Monday, the doc gave me the thumbs up to start doing lower body workouts, and in 3 weeks I CAN RUN AGAIN. Wait, did you catch that? Hold on, I'll repeat it: In 3 weeks, I can do the thing that calms my mind, gives me purpose on a lackluster day (and euphoria on a good one), and generally keeps the bitchiness at bay.... RUN!

Now I don't want to get ahead of myself, so in the mean time, I'll be working the heck out of my glutes, quads, biceps, etc.... and enjoying every ache and pain (the good kind, not the kind that signals a GANGLION CYST, Damn it).

Weekend Recap

2 things:

I had a fantastic weekend...

and I finally tried oatmeal with egg stirred in.

First off: Oatmeal. I've been thinking about trying this recipe for nearly a month. I kept forgetting until Daddy Likey put it in Blogback mountain. I worked late on Sunday so I had no excuse. Let me tell you, this stuff is RICH. Custardy (that a word?) and sweet. It's like dessert for breakfast. I couldn't have it everyday but it's a recipe I'll be eating for a long time. Just remember to stir REAL quick-like when you crack the egg into it. I still had little egg bits in mine but it wasn't gross or weird.

Now about that awesome weekend I had...

Friday night, I went out with some of my old coworkers. I've said it before and I'll say it again, these people are the only reason I liked my job at the corporation. They kept me sane... actually we were probably all just insane together, which is why we survived. They're all still there (they like their jobs). We ate dinner at Sol, which is this fancy-pants restaurant in Newport Beach, yet I got a taco for $4. Cheap eats... mommy like.

I worked Saturday, then got ready for an evening in LA with Mya and her friend Khara. Mya just so happened to do a photo shoot with this amazing artist (naturally, I can't remember her last name so it's impossible to google "Melinda" and find her). The viewing included 3 other artists and was held at an incredible house in Pacific Palisades. The view: awesome! The show: Beautiful (especially Mya's piece... seriously Mya!). I also happened to gorge myself on all the gourmet food that was being passed around... I had the best artichoke dip I've ever tasted. Nom nom nom.

Khara met up with us, and we headed down to the Purple Lounge at the Standard Hotel. The Purple Lounge had a neat design (yes it was purple), but we had to walk through the restaurant to get to it. I've gotta say, the restaurant and the bathroom in the hotel were the tackiest things I've seen. The Standard has a 60's vibe, very retro. But those two areas were just plain tacky. To be fair, I've yet to see one of the rooms, and the front lobby was cool. Maybe I just need to go back and stay there!

Khara was really cool... I love meeting new people who are smart, fun and very friendly right off the bat. It's something that can be hard to find in Southern California, which Mya and I talked about. That's another post for a different day. Anyways, the 3 of us had a good time and it was nice to go out some place different than usual.

That was pretty much my weekend... Did you have a good one?

In case you were wondering...

Happy Veteran's Day

I have a confession to make: I never thought too much about Veteran's day until now. Since I'm dating a military man, I've gone through the ups and downs with him that most people outside of the military don't necessarily know about (I sure didn't before now). Today, he's on duty (on the boat for 24 hours) and standing watch (literally standing with a gun in his hand, in case Al-Qaeda decides to attack his ship, for 5 hours at a time) for a total of 15 hours today. Yuck.

SS also works so many jobs that I can never keep them straight. He's a search and rescue swimmer, a postman for the ship, a supply officer and a couple other things. I can't keep track and I apologize for not doing him justice. Luckily, he's not "in the sandbox" over in the middle east. I can't imagine what that would be like, and I have so much respect for the men and women (and families) that have to deal with that.

But along with my confession comes some embarrassment. You see, both my grandfathers were in the Navy. I should have been up to speed with this whole Veteran's day and understanding their sacrifices a LONG TIME AGO.

My paternal grandfather, "Grandpa," served in the mid-forties. He was an engineer and was on the cruiser Vicksburg when the Japanese surrendered at Tokyo Bay, along with spending time off the coast of Okinawa and Iwojima. He later spent time in Vietnam working with the military through a private company.

My maternal grandfather, "Grandaddy," served in the mid-fifties. He was involved in rescuing passengers on the Andrea Doria. Grandaddy even got a room key from one of the stewards during all the chaos, a souvenir that I believe he still has today. He went on to serve in the reserves for quite a few years.

Grandpa passed away in 2006. I'm lucky to still have Grandaddy around. I'm also lucky to have a better understanding (and appreciation) for what these men and women do daily. For them, it's a job. But to me and many other people, it's a huge sacrifice made on behalf of the country they love.

So thank you to every veteran.

My new whip

On Friday, I adopted a new baby. It's an 18-year-old baby but she's still new to me.

The best part about her:

Pimpin Since '92. Sweet right? I think this was a way for a certain 17-year-old I know to feel better about driving a car that was older than him in an area where kids get brand new $30,000 cars for their birthdays. But I've been pimpin' since '86 so it just won't work for me ;)

The car is in better condition than some half it's age. I've got a/c, a cd player, good gas mileage, and the thing picks up decently, which I learned when I got on the freeway this morning as a truck was barreling towards me with no indication of slowing down.

I'm thinking of calling her The Gray Lady. Any other suggestions?

Laying it out there

Enough of this Foto Friday crap when I can't even put up a normal weeks' worth of posts. I'm not copping out today.

So listen: when it rains, it pours. Or maybe: when it's misty, I just get pissed that my hair fros, my makeup is messed up and my clothes are wet, without the fun of real rain. Then I slip in a puddle and scuff those cute new boots. The reality is it's not that bad but the littlest thing can become a nightmare if other things are off kilter. Know what I mean?

Example: My life since I got back from my travels. I spent my last chunk of money to see my long distance boyfriend. Once I got home, I was broke with no job, no car and a butt-load of credit card debt. It's true, I failed to heed Suze Orman's advice (one time thing, I assure you). So I got a job and although it isn't something I'll be doing for a career, I work with good people and it pays the bills.

Except then I had to have foot surgery which essentially wiped my account clean of the little savings I'd begun to build. Since then, I've been out of work for 3 weeks with no paycheck and bills adding up.

During all this, the boyfriend got a job offer to stay in the navy, IN NORFOLK for another 4 years. Ughhh. That threw me for a major loop, after I'd felt safe enough to make plans knowing that he'd decided to leave the navy for good and come back to California in June.

My life felt more mixed up in the last 2 months than it has in my entire life. To top that off, I couldn't even run the stress away. I couldn't do much at all, really. It was a true test of learning how to manage the stress in new ways and not allowing all this to get me so down. Sometimes I did okay and sometimes I really let things get to me.

But things have been picking up over the last week. I have a car! It's in the shop right now but I'll have it by this weekend. Gone are the days of sheepishly asking for rides or waiting an extra hour to be picked up from work. I got a sweet deal too! I'm also back to work starting this afternoon. I work 2 jobs at the same place and the job I really like gave me great hours starting back. Unfortunately, the second job is not as busy so I'm "on call" for half my shifts right now. That just won't work for me, so it's time to job hunt for another gig to fill in those hours during the week.

So that's my update. I got all my negative Nancy-ness off my chest and hopefully things will continue to move forward in a positive direction!

Oh and here's a picture of my old coworker Diane and me, 6 months ago exactly at an Angel's game:

Happy Early Birthday, D!

Experimenting

Do you read my blog in your reader or do you come visit the site each day?

It's something I often wonder: how many people use readers versus visiting each site they love to read.

I read all the blogs through my reader. The upside is that it's all neatly compiled and certain feeds that were blocked at my old job (i.e., perez hilton) were funneled successfully into my reader! The downside is that it makes a lazy person like me less likely to leave comments since it involves actually going to the site. SO much extra work... yeah, I can be that lazy sometimes.

So let me know! Even if you never comment, it'd be interesting if you give me a heads up.

Future? What future?

I've been spending far too much time with my thoughts lately since I've been unable to work. Fortunately, I go back on Friday! I never thought I'd be exited to work again but DAMN I am broke as a joke.

During these three weeks spent lying on the couch, I've watch a lot of HGTV and Bravo, baked and cooked more than I have in my entire life, and contemplated where I've been and where I'm going. That last one's dangerous to think about for someone living at home, barely scraping by at a job that certainly won't lead to a career. Sometimes I think about my trip and how I probably wouldn't be in this position right now if I had stayed at my god-forsaken job... I would have been promoted by now. But then I would probably be absolutely miserable. I also wouldn't have traveled on my own, experienced the things I did and learned as much about myself as I did. I can't change anything, nor do I really want to.

I really think that for the first time in my life, I really have no clue where I'll be or what I'll be doing even three months from now. As a very strategic planner-type, that scares the bajeezus out of me. Certain people in my life would probably say that's a good place for me to be, that I need to stop planning and start living more. That may be true. Except that makes me feel like a blind-folded tightrope walker... No thanks!

Shmappy Shmalloween

Hey there. Yes, I know. I've been neglecting the Republic. I'm sorry... no excuses. But today is Foto Friday and I thought, "hey, the least I can do is post a damn picture."

So that's what I'm doing today. I present to you, Halloween pasts

First up, the infamous Deer in the Headlights picture that certain people (*cough* AJ *Cough) love so much:

Then we have what I wore the night before. It's one of those costumes that sounds SO FUN in theory. Then you spend hours making it and it sags, the dress is not fitting right and people look at you like you're an idiot, not clever as you'd imagined...

Luckily, I didn't look like a total nut, since there were other 'games' I dressed up with:

I still haven't even gotten to the halfway point with my costume. I'm just not into it this year. I missed out on a chance to spend the weekend in New York, the BF is in VA and I'm still recovering which means no sassy heels on my feet to spice up a costume. BUM FOOT!

Have a great weekend!

Oh, my lovely weekend

Please allow me to regale you with my fantastic tale of nausea, sausage toes and sushi.

Let's begin with Friday. Surgery was at 3, which called for no food or drink after 7:30, 8 hours before, 12 hours before or midnight. Take your pick because I had 5 different people each tell me a different time. I went with the anesthesiologist's suggestion (7:30am). Try filling out important paperwork after fasting for 7 hours... I had to think twice about whether I was of mexican decent when doing a brief survey. I don't do well without food and water.

So in I went, to change into my gorgeous surgery outfit, complete with super awkward underwear they made me wear instead of my own. Not sure exactly why it was necessary for me to wear what can only be described as grandma in the front, Brazilian in the back. But they were 100% cotton and that was part of the reason.

What, did you think I was going to show you a picture of my awkward undies?

Then I waited on the bed for 40 minutes, with my mom by my side, until Dr. Monkey decided to grace us with his presence 30 minutes after my surgery was to start. While we waited, my mom tortured me with the camera. It's kinda hard to tell, but I didn't have much mobility, between the IV on my hand and the blood pressure cuff on my other arm. So that explains this video:

The doc finally came in and they wheeled me away. The last thing I remember is the doctor and nurses lifting me up to put me on the operating table. Then I woke up. Everything after the surgery is really blurry, except I remember asking the doctor if I could see the cyst. Despite my complete aversion to blood and all bodily functions besides farts and burps, I was oddly ok with seeing the little guy. Alas, the Doc wasn't into showing me.

Prepped for surgery

Friday night was miserable, full of nausea, vomiting and a complete inability to do anything for myself. Woke up every 4 hours for vicodin and antibiotics. Saturday, the nausea ebbed and flowed, while my toes looked like vienna sausages poking out of my bandages. I should clarify that I already have Fred Flintstone toes, but this just made them more pronounced. And sausage-like.

It's amazing how much crap is on television, but nothing worth watching came on until TLC had their Say Yes to the Dress marathon in the evening. Nothing will take your mind off a throbbing foot like bridezillas and bitchy bridesmaids. Other than that, the tv should be ashamed of how little it had to offer this poor cripple girl during her time of need.

I thought Sunday would bring relief, but it was probably the worst of all 3 days. I took my last vicodin at 9am and was nauseas until almost 3. The kind of nauseas that will have you sticking fingers down your throat, shaking your head in circles, and imagining why sticking your head in the toilet bowl is so disgusting, just to induce relief in the form of you-know-what. It didn't work. You know what did? Holding a little 4 month old baby. Put the baby in my arms and BOOM I feel great and I'm cooing over her little blue eyes and sausage thighs and, oh I'm not nauseas anymore. Best relief EVER. After that, I was able to eat a bit and actually focus my eyes.

With the miracle child that healed me

My appetite came back with a vengeance yesterday around 6:30, so I went to happy hour at RA with some girlfriends and finally at like normal person! Nothing like sushi to cheer me up.

Moral of this story: never taking vicodin again. Anyone else have a similar experience with this devil drug?